I used to take photos on every hike, thinking I’d look back and remember how it felt. But the photos always missed something—the cold air, the ache in my legs, the way the light actually hit the trees. So I started painting the trails instead. Not because I’m good at it, but because it forced me to sit still and notice. I’d get the colors wrong, the proportions off, but somehow it felt more honest. Now, when I look at those messy sketches, I remember the silence, the sweat, the exact way the world looked when I was finally alone with it. No filter ever did that. #Travel #TravelConfessions #HikingMemories